


My Shadow & I

by MsMeDeadly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: -on accident, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Food Issues, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, Mirrors, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMeDeadly/pseuds/MsMeDeadly
Summary: Stiles Stilinski can understand people needing space, but when he is pushed away by the pack he will meet a new friend named Tam who whispers promises of a better life and weaves beautiful images of happiness that Stiles can't seem to resist.Hello everyone! This story is going to be on hiatus for a while as I compete it. It will be completed though. I just need time to write it without worrying about trying to upload. Sorry for any inconvenience and thank you for reading.





	1. The Girl in the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically the first story I'm pretty serious about. Comments would be lovely and please pay attention to tags for TW.

Stiles Stilinski sighed heavily as he tossed his backpack in the general direction of his bed. His head had been pounding all day. Of course, he also had to have three tests and two pop quizzes today at school. Sitting through Harris's sneering snide comments had almost driven him to storming out of the classroom twice. The only thing that had stopped him was the ache in both his legs that seemed to beg him to sit still.

Well... As still as Stiles could ever sit.

He raised his arms slowly into a stretch, wincing at the unpleasant throb that shot through both thighs up to his hips. He ignored the feeling and sat quickly in front of his computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he logged in and started the search he needed for his homework. His eyes shot to his phone every so often. The blank screen seemed to mock him as he tried to concentrate. It had been a week since he had received a text from anyone but his father. And even then it was only a few platitudes such as "how are you?" and "Have a good day”.

Stiles winced at the reminder of how his "friends" had been treating him lately. They all seemed to be too busy with relationships and werewolf drama. He really didn't blame them, they had all been through a lot lately. The least he could do was give everyone the space they needed, even if it did make him feel lonely.

Stiles finished his homework earlier then he expected that night. His stomach gave a small growl as he looked at the clock in shock. It was only 5:00 p.m. Stiles sighed heavily as he contemplated making dinner. On one hand he was hungry, on the other he had no energy to actually get up and make something. Shaking his head he slowly stood up with a groan. The ache in his legs had now traveled up to his hips and shoulders, pooling into a dull throb that was bordering on truly painful. He moved slowly to the bathroom. Inside the medicine cabinet was a bottle of extra strength pain relief. Popping the top he took two dry and sighed as unhappily at his reflection.

Pale skin and too large Bambi brown eyes looked back at him. Short shaved brown hair that looked almost black against the colorless skin. Moles that seemed to stand in stark contrast and begged for attention. Stiles was ugly. Wimpy and lanky looking in his oversized shirts and faded blue jeans. He clenched his eyes shut against the glaring image that haunted him every time he looked in a mirror. The awful truth mocking him. His mom had always been beautiful with her large brown eyes and freckle specked face. Pale long fingers attached to soft hands dancing over the piano keys at the music store she worked at for a short time. He used to love that he looked like his mom when she was still around.

Then she was gone and it was so hard to look at himself anymore. 

His dad would never mention it and tried to hide it when he could, but Stiles knew he had a hard time looking at him too.

Stiles looked down and was about to turn away when he heard a gentle tapping noise. His eyebrows drew close in confusion as he listened for a moment. Then slowly he looked up. Starring back at him was a beautiful girl with soft honey eyes and long brown hair. Her smile was gentle as she waved shyly at him. With a noise (that was not a squeak, he swears) Stiles falls backwards away from the mirror and winces as his back thuds with contact against the wall behind him. The pain he was already feeling in his shoulders intensifies until he feels tears spring to his eyes and he has to breathe steadily for a few minutes.

The girl looks at him with concern. Her face relaxed but open with a caring expression. "Are you alright?" She whispers, almost as if she doesn't want to scare him again. Stiles takes a moment to look at her fully. She seems younger then him. Probably about 15 at the most. Her brown hair floats around her as if she was swimming in water. 

"Yeah," he chokes out past the shock. "Who are you?" He asks. He feels stupid, or maybe crazy. He didn't know if this was really happening or just a dream.

Her smile brightens and she giggles. Bubbles of gold and glitter float around her as her expression brightens. "My name is Tam. It's really nice to meet you Stiles." She does a small bow to him and giggles again. He watches the bubbles float with a childlike fascination. 

Stiles swallows nervously and looks around the room. Seeing that no one is standing behind him like in a slasher movie, he looks back with an apprehensive look. "Not to be rude or anything, but why are you in my mirror?" He asks, falling back into his normal sarcastic persona he dawns when he feels stressed.

She looks down shyly. "I'm here because you need me." She looks back up and straightens with a dramatic flip of her hand. "It's my job to help you Stiles.” He looks at her with confusion. "Help me how?" He asks with trepidation.

She sighs dramatically. "I'll give you the fast version. My name is Tam, I am your 'shadow'. Shadows are beings that are like fairies but we live in mirrors. We help our counters when they are failing at life. Like you!" She laughs happily as Stiles blushes deeply with embarrassment. "I'm not 'failing at life'", he defends unhappily. "Could have fooled me." She sing-songs jokingly. 

Stiles sighs with irritation. "Thats nice and all, but I'm doing perfectly fine. I don't need some strange kid in a mirror telling me how to live." He huffs and turns away, about to leave when her next words stop him cold. "Is that why your 'friends' don't care about you anymore? Because that doesn't seem 'perfectly fine to me.”

He winces at the blunt way she puts it and glares back at her. "They care about me, they just need space," he says uneasily. Her words hit him harder then he would like to admit but he keeps his face neutral. "If they really needed space, why would they still hang out together? The only person left out... is you."


	2. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I wrote both chapters all in one because tomorrow is my busiest day with class so I knew I would not write it later. Also sorry about any grammar errors, I don't really have time to check over for them but I try hard to catch them while I write. Let me know if you find any and I will fix them, thanks.

Stiles Stilinski stood uncertainly in the hallway at school the next day. His eyes trained nervously on the wall of lockers where he could see the others talking animatedly to each other. He bit his lip as he thought back to what Tam had said. It was true, they all seemed perfectly fine around each other. So why were they ignoring him?

Stiles took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he walked towards them. His locker was not far away from where the others had decided to get together this morning. Once he got close, he listened carefully to what they were saying. Scott seemed to be talking about a date he had with Allison. She held onto his arm with an adoring smile as he recapped the embarrassing tale of how the bowling alley manager had caught them making out in the family bathroom. The others laughed at Scotts deep blush and started talking about their own embarrassing make-out stories. Stiles felt a sharp pinch go through his chest as he listened from his locker. 

"They don't even notice you're not with them," a voiced whispered in Stiles' ear. He jumped and bit his tongue to keep from making any sudden sounds. His eyes fell on the reflective surface of his locker door. Tam stared back at him with large sad eyes. Stiles felt a sting in his own as he looked down at her. "Shh!" He said sharply and flicked his eyes back to the group in front of him. They were so immersed in their conversation they didn't even notice anything.

With a deep sigh Stiles grabbed his books and held them tightly to his chest. "They don't mean to forget me," he whispers unconvincingly. Tam makes a sympathetic noise and quietly reminds him he needs to get to class before he is late. Stiles nods and gently closes his locker. On the way to class he keeps his head down and tries not to think about the conversation the pack had been having in the hallway.

Once he got to his desk he noticed the ache in his back he had woken up with that morning was slowly getting worse. He had taken two extra strength pain relief but they had yet to actually do anything. With a groan he sat gently at his desk. His ears heated up at the giggles he heard from two girls sitting behind him. He looked down dejectedly and tried to ignore the whispers all around him. It felt like everyone was talking about him in some way. He knew it must of been his imagination, but he could feel his confidence he had already been sorely lacking drop down another few notches.

"Don't let them get to you Stiles." Stiles refrained from jumping this time. He looked around until he saw Tam staring back at him from the metal of the globe stand in the corner. He looked around but no one seemed to notice or hear. "They just want something to talk about." She glared at the people around him with the most hateful look he had seen on her face yet. 

Her cheeks were puffed out and rosy with irritation. Stiles felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he relaxed slightly. It felt nice to have someone stick up for him, even if he was the only one who heard. He was distracted from his thoughts as his teacher walked in. He felt himself relax a little more as class began. The mechanical act of taking notes and soaking up knowledge made Stiles feel better. Tam stayed in the corner on the globe stand all through class, glaring at anyone who dared look at him funny and praising him for every answer he got right.

It wasn't until lunch that reality came crashing down.

Stiles had walked into the cafeteria with a small smile as he thought back to what Tam had said during class. He was starting to think about her as his friend. She had definitely been acting more like his friend then Scott had in a long time. He glanced up and froze as his brain processed what he was seeing. Scott was surrounded by the pack. Their wasn't a seat left at their usual table for Stiles.

He gulped as a feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. He had been forgotten. His cheeks flushed as he felt like his heart had been dropped to the floor. He felt sick. Without thinking about it, Stiles quickly turned around and walked away. He felt that if he stopped he would either throw up all over the cafeteria floor, or he would sink to his knees weakly. Both were not really an option in this situation. 

With a bang the door to the second floor boys bathroom was thrown open and Stiles stumbled in. His heart pounding in his ears as images of his "friends" laughing without him filled his mind. Stiles gasped as his lungs felt weaker and weaker. Each breath harder to draw in. Slowly he slid down to the floor, his back pressed firmly against the door behind him. A soft voice spoke gently in his ear, begging him to calm down.

"Stiles, please. Take deep breaths!" Tam gently said to him, her voice rising with horror and concern as Stiles sank deeper into his panic attack. Tears ran down Stiles' face as he gasp in the little air his body would allow. Tam continued to talk gently to the distraught and panicked boy. Soon, his breath started to even out.

Stiles wiped angrily at the tears streaming down his pale cheeks. Small gasps rasped past chapped lips. "Stiles", whimpered Tam as she watched the boy fold in on himself on the bathroom floor. Her face portrayed concern and heart wrenching pain at watching Stiles suffer. With a hiccuping cough Stiles stood unsteadily and stumbled to the line of sinks. He looked up slowly into the wide eyed Tam staring back at him. Her hair was slightly wild from fingers running erratically through the beautiful strands.

"I'm so sorry Stiles," she sniffled. Her eyes reddening as she reached out uselessly to him. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said, slightly bitter. 

Stiles flinched violently at the sudden bang of fists against glass. "If only I was there, if only I could touch you and hold you and be there for you!" Tam screamed out in frustration. Black wasps of smoke seemed to swirl violently around Tam. Her beautiful brown eyes darkening with upset. "If only I wasn't so useless," Tam suddenly whispered. Her voice hoarse with emotions as she breathed heavily. Stiles felt his heart tremble at the emotion he saw in her face at that moment. 

"You aren't useless," said Stiles with conviction. "You are here, talking to me, caring about how I feel and what I am going through. You stayed through my panic attack even though it must have scared you. Non of the others have ever done that. I'm sorry I was so freaked out by you yesterday." His voice trailed off into a whisper. 

"I wasn't going to leave you when you needed me," Tam said with a watery smile. Her eyes lightening as she looked at him with a caring open expression. "I promise Stiles, I will always be here when you need me. I will always stay by your side and try to help. All you have to do is promise to let me try." Tam wiped a stray tear away with a pale hand. Stiles gasped in a deep breath, then let it out violently before nodding. "I promise," he said shakily with a weak smile. His hand reached out to brush gently against the cold glass. They stood for the rest of the lunch hour, smiling at each other as Stiles promise rang in their ears.


	3. Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would be too busy to upload a chapter today but I couldn't help it. Enjoy ˆ'ˆ

Stiles closed his front door with a bang behind him. The sound of a folder being slammed down on the kitchen table made him look up with a jerk. He didn't know his dad would be home so early today. He had been so busy ever since the kanima issue.

Stiles walked into the kitchen to see his dad bent over a thick file with a frustrated frown. "Hey dad," he says calmly, his head tilted to the side as he watched the tension in his dads shoulders refuse to ease. His dad grunted, then sighed heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. Stiles made his way over to the fridge and looked around before pulling out a bag of sliced turkey and the jar of mayo. He then got two pieces of bread from the bread box and sloppily build himself a sandwich.

Taking a big bite, Stiles watched his father become more and more frustrated with the work he was doing. Guilt started to naw on his insides. "Hey dad, maybe you should take a break for a bit," Stiles said with concern. The lines on his dad's face seemed to be deeper and his hair more grey. He was ignored, his dad continuing to work as though he hadn't said anything. Stiles gulped loudly as he felt tension build in his stomach.

"Dad?" Stiles asked quietly. His eyes calculating his fathers tense face. "Not now Stiles, can't you see I'm busy?” Stiles nodded. "I'm just worried. You haven't had a break in a week." 

"Well maybe I would have a break if you hadn't caused me so much trouble." His father spat as he slammed the papers down and stood.

Stiles felt his insides go cold. His heart started to beat a little faster as he watched his father turn away. He didn't notice his dad's look of guilt that suddenly crossed his features, nor did he notice his dad's shoulders fall pathetically in defeat. "I'm just a little busy, son. I have to go back to work." The sheriff grabbed his jacket that had been thrown over the back of his chair and collected all the papers off the table. Without another word he left Stiles sitting silently, sick with the feeling of abandonment.

When the door slammed behind the sheriff, Stiles could hold his feelings in no longer. A sob tore through his chest painfully. His hands clutching uselessly at the front of his shirt. He stood shakily, wincing as the pain made itself known again. Sharp knives shooting around each joint. He stumbled over to the sink, his sandwich squished inside his clenched fist. 

Salty tears started to stream down his face as he stuffed the sandwich down the drain and turned on the garbage disposal. The sight of the food grinding down made him feel sick. Clutching his stomach, he turned off the disposal and turned away from the sink. He slowly made his way up the stairs and into his room.

He felt like he was falling apart. His mind racing with images of his friends ignoring him; of his dad blaming him for what had happened. A soft shushing sound drew his eyes to the reflection of his black computer screen. Tam stared back at him with sad eyes. Her image was faded and fuzzy in the dark screen. She slowly pointed to the bathroom. Her eyes begging him to follow her instructions. He nodded and made his way slowly towards the bathroom. Stumbling every so often over his own feet.

Once there, he looked into the mirror with desperate eyes. The pain in his body had built along with the pain in his chest and the knot in his stomach. Tam smiled at him in sympathy. "It's okay Stiles, take a deep breath." She gently pressed her fingers into the glass and leaned forward with wide glassy eyes. Stiles sucked in air greedily. His eyes tracking her movements as she slowly pointed down. When he looked he saw the bottle of extra strength pain relief sitting on the edge of the sink.

His hand shook as he reached for it. His fingers felt numb as he slowly grasped it in his stiff hands. Two pills fell out in his palm. He was about to take them when a tap made him jerk his head up. A pale finger was held up against the glass. Another tap made him pour out one more pill. His face and neck felt sweaty as he raised his hand to his mouth and threw back the three pills. 

"Good," she gasped in relief. "This will help so much Stiles." Stiles nodded nervously. His stomach cramping and twisting as he leaned heavily against the sink. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. Color came back to her face and she smiled widely. "Everything is going to be okay Stiles.” He nodded weakly and smiled back. The pain started to recede slowly as he breathed in deeply. "Thank you," he croaked. 

With a small smile she whispered, "go take a nap, you really need it." Stiles tiredly shrugged and pushed himself into a standing position. His shoulders tense as he moved sluggishly to his bed. Falling down into the bed without moving the covers, Stiles felt his mind start to slow as he drifted off into a restless sleep. 

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆ 

Fuzzy colors swirled into focus as Stiles opened his eyes. He felt slightly nauseous as he sat up with a groan. His clock flashed 8:00 p.m.. With a heavy sigh he planted his feet firmly on the ground. He felt no pain. The extra pill must have been what he needed to finally kick the unpleasant aches. A relieved smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Moving slowly he made his way to the bathroom. He felt light headed but brushed it off as he reached the closed door. Pushing it open he shuffled inside and flinched at the bright glare of the lights. He passed the mirror and looked up with a smile, but froze at what he saw. Tam wasn't there. Shocked he drew closer and rested his hand against the glass. 

"Tam?" Stiles called, his eyebrows drawn together with concern. No response. He leaned closer into the mirror and stopped as he really looked at himself. His cheeks seemed pale and full. Stretching his face wider then usual. He stepped back away and winced as he saw the rest of himself. A baggy shirt hung from his shoulders and rested against his stomach that stuck out a little farther then normal. When he lifted his arms he flinched at the feeling of weight pulling the skin down. Sagging flesh made his bloated arms seem as big as his thighs. With a distressed whine, Stiles turned away from the mirror. 

The mirror swirled with different colors as a face slowly shimmered into view. Tam stared eerily at Stiles back. His thoughts swirling in her mind. A smile slowly cracked across her once soft skin. Her eyes sunk slowly and her skin tightened until a skeletal image stared out at the boys hunched over figure. A boney hand slowly creeped towards the boys back. As the thoughts swirled violently through her mind the mirrors barrier bent and molded itself around the clawed appendage. 

'Almost,' she thought with an airy giggle. 'So close.'


	4. Food Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes have been busy but I try to be punctual. Hope you like it.

Stiles walked towards the school doors, his back ramrod straight as he panted tiredly. His lower back was pounding with pain that brought tears to his eyes every time he bent slightly forward. The extra strength pain relief he had taken the day before had worn off and the discomfort had come back with a vengeance. 

Stopping in front of his locker, Stiles attempted to stretch slowly to minimize the sharp shooting aches in his lower back. It didn't work. Wincing, he unlocked his locker and grabbed as little as he could for his first class. He felt stiff and uncomfortable. His baggiest clothes hanging from his frame. That morning Stiles had tried on multiple shirts before settling on ones that hid the rolls of doughy fat the best. The thick material of his shirt left him feeling sweaty and tired. His cheeks felt flushed as he panted slightly from walking down the hall. An image of a 600 pound Stiles waddling tiredly around school flashed through his mind and made him feel weak with panic. 

As he walked into his first class he heard a comforting hum coming from the corner of the room. He didn't need to look to know Tam was there watching. A soft smile relaxed his features as he thought back to her sweet smile. She had helped him more then any of his "friends" ever had. Even Scott's friendship was lacking compared to Tam’s. He felt his shoulders slowly lower from their tense state as he listened to her hum quietly. The song was familiar and seemed to wash away all his previous worries. A few minutes into class Stiles felt his stomach let out a loud rumble, making him blush bright red. He ducked his head with embarrassment as a few of his classmates sitting closest to him chuckled quietly behind their hands. An awful feeling started to build inside Stiles chest. He had forgone breakfast that morning. When he had found himself standing in his kitchen he could not bring himself to actually eat anything. 

He subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He felt like he could die from the mortification. His imagination was running wild with possibilities of what people were thinking about his weight. They must have thought he was fat from the way his stomach growled so loudly. Tears stung his eyes a he thought about all the food he had eaten in the past. 

By the time lunch rolled around he felt close to falling apart. All he wanted to do was hide away from the world. Each step he took felt awkward, his body betraying him. Each person who past him seemed to be staring. Silently judging. He had convinced himself they thought he was ugly, discussing. Fat. Why else would his friends abandon him?

He was just about to pass the cafeteria for the staircase leading to the second floor when someone calling his name stopped him in his tracks. Scott was standing in the doorway. His bag slung lazily over his shoulder, a big smile showing off his dimple. "Hey man," Scott called again. His stance was relaxed and open. Stiles couldn't help but feel irritation and jealousy at how at ease he seemed all the time now.  
Stiles slowly raised his hand in greeting. He felt unsure of the situation but thought he would go with it. "Hey," he said. He tried to relax but knew he failed. Scott slowly looked him up and down, one eyebrow raising slightly. "Dude, you look different. Come on, they have curly fries today." He turned with barely a glance behind him. Stiles stood for a moment with his mouth hanging wide open in confusion. 

His mind raced with possibilities of what could be going on. This was the most Scott had said to him in weeks. Now suddenly he was acting like nothing had happened? Stiles looked over his shoulder nervously before slowly following behind Scott. He tried to block out the sight and smell of the food. His stomach gave another rumble in irritation at the lack of sustenance lately. 

Pressing his fist painfully into his aching stomach, Stiles started as he had to suddenly holt so as not to run into Scott who had unexpectedly stopped in line. Shuffling from foot to foot he thought of how greasy the school food has always been. He had never really thought, nor cared about it before. Tension started to build in his stomach with every step closer until he felt physically sick with dread. Finally they reached the front of the line. Scott took a tray of food with a polite smile and thank you. Stiles felt his hands start to tremble as Scott moved away. 

His arms slowly creeped out like reaching branches in the dead of night towards the washed out pink tray ladened with heaps of fat rich foods. His heart was pounding in his ears as he gave a small smile to the lunch lady. Sweat slowly slid down his neck as he looked down at the tray he was holding. Four large breaded chicken strips sat almost innocently next to a pile of curly fries. The little paper baskets they sat in were saturated with grease and oil. Nausea hit him like a train. He turned his face away only to notice Scott staring at him from the table with a concerned tilt of his head. Pasting on a fake smile he slowly walked towards the table. Alison sat next to Scott like always. Her shoulder brushing against his possessively as Lydia moved her hand dramatically as she spoke. 

Jackson sat on Lydia's other side. His face neutral with boredom as he ate his lunch. Danny sat next to him, his phone held close to his face as he texted with a frenzy. Isaac sat in front of Scott, his head resting in his hand lazily as he stared at him. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The only spot open was next to Isaac, the farthest seat from really anyone else. With a nervous gulp Stiles walked over and slowly sat down. No one payed much attention. Stiles relaxed some at the thought and tried not to think about the food. He could smell it, sitting so close, waiting for him to eat it. Goosebumps formed down his back and sides as steam rose wistfully in the air. His stomach gave one final growl. The twisting sensation almost made him gasp.

Reaching a trembling hand towards the food, Stiles felt his control fully snap. With a fast movement, four curly fries were clutched in his hand and quickly shoved into his mouth. He almost moaned as the flavor burst against his tongue. He was almost dizzy with the explosion of happiness and relief he felt as he chewed and swallowed. Handfuls of food past his lips without much thought. He only paused when he was almost done and his stomach gave a foreboding twinge.

Slowly he looked up, his eyes meeting six astonished expressions. Jackson curled his lip in discussed. "Wow Stiles," Scott huffed a short awkward laugh. "Hungry much?” Shame thick and black settled in Stiles stomach. Revulsion filled him when he looked down and saw the empty tray. Panic welled up from his stomach to his throat. His heart started to pound hard making his breath come in short gasps. Clenching his eyes shut, Stiles stood and all but ran from the cafeteria. 

The world was a blur of gray as Stiles feet took him to the second floor bathroom. With a bang the door hit the wall and slammed shut behind him. Leaning heavily, Stiles slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor. His hands scrambling uselessly across his shirt as he tried to draw in breath. His vision was starting to go black when he heard humming. Almost like snow melting slowly into the ground, Stiles started to relax. 

He gulped in breath as he let the sweet sounds wash over him like gentle waves on a beach. Every muscles slowly relaxed until he was almost a puddle on the floor. Tam looked over him with a sad smile from the sinks mirror. Tam’s golden hair flowed smoothly around her as her humming came to a gentle stop.

"Don't cry Stiles, it makes me so sad when you cry." Her voice rang like music as she pressed her fingers against the smooth glass. "I can help you, if you let me. It will be so easy if you just open up to me." Her voice turned slightly pleading as she watched him stare almost blankly at the beige wall. His eyes flash over to her vacantly. His skin is pale and his lips are chapped. A pink tongue sticks out slightly to lick his bottom lip as he processes what she said.

"Ok," he croaks. Her eyes darken slightly as a wide smile spreads across her face.


	5. Desolation & Revelations

Stiles stood in front of his mirror, his eyes trained on each detail of his body steadily. Thin hands ran over each curve and crevice slowly. In his mind he was mapping out each detail. Memorizing each imperfection for later. Tam watched off to the side of the mirror with an impassive expression. Her eyes dark and vacant, tracking each movement with a slight tilt of her head. 

A month had passed since that day in the cafeteria with Scott and the rest of the pack. It was all a blur to Stiles, a blur of hazy emotions, pain, and a twisting sense of dread that followed him like a dark cloud. 

Tam was pleased. Everything was coming along perfectly. Scott had kept his distance even though he felt concern for his once best friend. Stiles was listening to everything Tam told him. Each instruction was followed perfectly without a single questioning comment or complaint. 

The pounds melted off Stiles like butter in a hot frying pan. Each day spent counting and weighing seemed to lift a weight off his shoulders. 

The more he focused on food, the better he felt and the happier Tam was.

Tam had thought the Sheriff would be a problem. Shockingly he barely noticed a difference in his son. Work seemed to keep him distracted and distant. Whenever Stiles had to eat with his dad, he would move food around his plate and talk incessantly until his father would grow irritated and leave. If that didn't work he would shove handfuls of food wrapped in napkins into his pockets. After dinner he would throw them away. Breakfast usually consisted of coffee and half an apple before school. On the weekends he would just have coffee. 

It wasn't long before weakness caused his arms to hang like loose strings tied lazily to pale shoulders and his breath to stutter unevenly every time he walked more then a few steps. Black dots would float across his vision every time he stood too long or moved too fast.

Blue tinged fingernails beat an erratic melody against colorless lips as Stiles stared at his reflection a few moments longer. Ugly thoughts danced across his mind as he contemplated where he needed to lose weight the most. 

Tam tilted her head in thought before whispering out to the conflicted young man. "Maybe a few pounds off the thighs.” Her voice seemed to startle him for a moment before he regained his composure and smiled weakly at her. "You're right. I noticed they seem a little bloated today.” A pleased smile spread across Tam's face. "I am always right, remember Stiles?” Her laughter was like drops of rain against glass. A shadowy smile flickered briefly before dying on Stiles face. 

"I know Tam..." His words died as he seemed to still briefly. "I wish I could talk to you more. Maybe be able to have conversations with you outside of a bathroom." He chuckled humorlessly to himself. Tam seemed to think to herself for a moment. "There are ways to have a mirror with you at all times." Her expression read exasperation at having never thought of it before. "A compact mirror will work perfectly for that." A bony finger tapped slowly against her angled chin in contemplation. A smirk graced Stiles features briefly. "I'll stop at the store before I go home today." He nodded and blinked back floating blackness from his vision. 

"Good," Tam purred before looking upwards. "Go to class now Stiles. We wouldn't want your teachers getting suspicious.”

Stiles nodded and pressed his fingers against the smooth glass before pulling away and heading out of the bathroom. The rest of the day passed with little to no incidents. Scott completely ignored him along with the rest of his pack. The teachers never payed attention in the first place. 

Driving was getting harder. Stiles found himself sometimes too tired to drag himself behind the wheel. On days like that he would sometimes black out and wake up sitting in the school parking lot. His hands would feel clammy and his heart would pound as he forced himself out of the car and into the building for the school day. No one ever really noticed anything off about him. 

That day he felt a little more energetic then normal. His hands were dry and tremble free as he clutched the wheel. Starting the car he shifted uncertainly before heading towards the little store close to his home. The only person there was a small woman with a bright green name tag and a lose bun on top of her head. 

Her eyes seemed to widen slightly as she took in Stile's presence. Subconsciously Stiles wrapped his arms around his middle, hoping he was covering the fat he knew she could see there. He tried to ignore her as he made his way straight to the makeup isle and found the perfect little mirror. Cheap but effective. 

Taking it up to the checkout, Stiles kept his eyes trained firmly on his scuffed shoes as she rang his items and took the few bills he held out with trembling fingers. Without daring to spare a look at her face, afraid of what he would see there, he took the little mirror back to his car and sped the rest of the way home. 

The cruiser wasn't there when he pulled up. The house seemed lonely and dull. Trudging up the steps to his room Stiles thought back on what he had eaten that day. Half a roll of bread floated to the front of his mind. That morning Tam had said it would be alright for him to have it, as long as he drank two glasses of water with it. Now he felt the roll sitting heavily in his stomach. Logically he knew it would be mostly digested by now, but he couldn't help the heaviness he felt in the pit of his stomach.

An unhappy sigh passed his lips as he opened the compact mirror and laid listlessly down on his bed. One arm hung uselessly off the edge while the other held the mirror up shakily. Almost instantly Stiles felt himself relax as he took in Tam's bright smile flashing back at him through the little mirror. His heart fluttered happily as he turned over to his side. "Hi," he grinned. Tam giggled. "Hello Stiles." Her fingers brushed against the glass slowly as she watched him. Her eyes tracking his sunken cheeks, dark circled eyes, and almost translucent complexion. "You look so beautiful Stiles," her voice whispered hauntingly. The words seemed to wrap around him like a cool autumn breeze.

Stiles felt himself blush. "I'm not really," he said slightly awkwardly. Tam frowned at him. "Remember Stiles, I am always right.” He nodded. "I'm sorry," he said dejectedly. Tam's face seemed to melt down into a concerned frown as she watched him. "Whats on your mind Stiles?”

Stiles bit his lip nervously. "I was just wondering, you've never really told me much about yourself or where you're from.” 

Tam froze. Her eyes flashing across his face before taking a deep breath. “I’ve told you I’m a Shadow being. We call ourselves Scáth Anam. My people live on the alternate plane of reality. We only show ourselves to people who find themselves lost in life and need our help.” Wisps of gold light started to swirl around her as she looked off into the distance, almost like she was seeing something else. 

“Many, many years ago a group of Sealgaire started hunting us. They smashed all mirrors in the towns they visited. Burned people alive who talked to us and called them witches. In the end a lot of my people fled this universes plane and moved on. 

Stiles gulped loudly as images of witch hunting flashed through his mind. He could feel his eyes start to tear up in sympathy. “Only a handful of us were left after that. The Shadow plane was empty and desolate. As time went on people continued to leave. Humans stopped seeing us or listening to us. The humans that did see us would try and tell others about us. They all usually ended up being passed off as crazy when no one else saw us. Usually they would get locked away or shunned by other. Times were very tough.” Her voice faded off into a pained whisper. 

“For me I have always been alone. No human ever listened or payed attention to what I tried to say. The area I live in is completely empty. I haven't seen another Scáth Anam in a very long time.” Falling Silent Tam wiped away tears in frustration and took a deep breath. “I think thats enough stories for now Stiles. You look very tired. Maybe you should go to sleep early tonight.”

Stiles watched her with wide sad eyes. “Ok Tam,” he whispered gently. “You know, I’m really happy I met you. Your my best friend.” Tam froze, her gaze off to the side. “I’m glad we met too. You will never know how much.”

With that Tam let swirls of fog surround her until she slowly disappeared from the mirrors view. Stiles sighed heavily, the empty mirror held loosely in one hand. Setting it down on the bed beside him, he turned away. His mind was racing wth thoughts and images of a wasteland, empty except for one girl who stood standing bright against the darkness around her. Stray tears rolled down Stiles bloodless cheeks as he slowly drifted off into a restless night filled with nightmares and lonely dreams.


	6. Dad: Take 2

Stiles sat frozen in front of his dad. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. So loudly that for a second Stiles thought he must have misheard what his dad said. “What?” He asked dumbly. 

Sheriff Stilinski stood, arms crossed, in front of his son. His eyes raked searchingly across Stiles, he didn't like what he saw. He knew he had been busy lately. Work had seemed to pile on after the whole Jackson episode, but he didn't think he had been gone this much. Gone enough not to notice his son waisting away. 

“I said, I got a phone call this morning from your teachers. Why haven't you been eating Stiles?” Exasperation colored the sheriffs voice. Stiles could feel panic welling up from his stomach. “I don't know what you're talking about. I’ve been eating normally.” His fingers tapped nervously against his thigh. His hand almost curled into a claw from the tense muscles. 

“You are skin and bones. You can't say you’ve been eating normally and look the way you do Stiles.” Frustration snapped out with each word. Sheriff Stilinski was almost to the end of his rope. This whole year Stiles had been acting out, lying, doing who knows what with who knows who. 

“I’m getting pretty tired of how you’ve been acting lately Stiles. First you start lying, then you start getting in trouble with the law. Now your not eating and lying again. I just don't know what to do with you!” His dads arms fly up and outward in exasperated anger. Stiles flenched away, cheeks bright red and eyes watery. 

“There is nothing for you to do. I’m perfectly fine. You're just overreacting.” Stiles said pathetically. His mouth spouting whatever it can to distract the situation without his brains consent. 

The Sheriffs face flamed bright red. “Overreacting?! I almost lost my job because of the stunts you pulled! How is that overreacting?” Taking a sudden violent deep breath, Sheriff Stilinski turned away to collect his thoughts. 

“I should have stopped this from the beginning. I’m sorry for failing you this way but now I’m not backing down. Your grounded until you can tell me whats going on and fix your behavior.” The finality of his statement jarred Stiles. His head whipping up, his eyes wide. 

“Thats not fair! I was already grounded for the Jackson thing! You can't punish me twice!” In all truth, Stiles didn't really know why he was so upset. It’s not like he had anywhere to go, or anyone to see. At that though he felt his shoulders fall.

“I can and I will Stiles. Text Scott and tell him you wont be seeing outside of school for a while. Then go to your room. I’m staying for dinner.” With that the Sheriff walked away in a huff. 

The worst part of the conversation was that, his dad didn’t even realize he and Scott weren’t friends anymore. The only way he noticed Stiles weight was because a teacher told him. He didn’t know anything about his son anymore. 

With trembling legs Stiles stood shakily and walked unsteadily up the stairs. His heart was heavy and his mind fuzzy with the conversation between his dad and him. He felt awful. Confused and betrayed all wrapped up into a ball of ugly emotions. He wanted to scream; to break something in frustration. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. Before Stiles had talked his friend into going into the woods and looking for a body like an idiot. Before said friend got bitten by a werewolf and became one of the most popular people at school. He wanted to turn back time.

But sadly, this was reality. He had no power over the past. That knowledge made his insides clinch with depression. He felt tired, warn out from tension. Stupid teachers who wouldn't mind their own business, stupid ex best friends who easily abandon you, stupid dad who wouldn't listen or pay attention. Stupid him for being so pathetic. 

By the time Stiles flopped down onto his bed, his mind was a spinning mess of dark thoughts and emotions. He wanted everything to stop. The desperate want for calmness was almost overwhelming. Tears stung his eyes and made him feel breathless. He was just about to wipe them away when a voice called out to him. 

“It’s okay Stiles, nothing is broken. You are fine, I can help. Just breathe Stiles. Just breathe.” Tam’s voice called out sweetly from the small mirror. Her eyes stared out at him compassionately. Her large brown eyes sparkling sympathetically. “He doesn't mean it, he doesn't understand. You can't fully blame him. But you can't let him win either.”

With each word her voice seemed to sound sweet and sticky like honey. Trapping him inside her web of words. “All you have to do is what I tell you, you don't have to worry about anything else. It will all pass, I promise. You wont feel bad when you wake up, just sleep it all away.” Her hand reached out beside her, Stiles hand did the same.

In twin motions they both picked up a bottle sitting on Stiles bedside table. Stiles had gotten these out the other day; sleeping pills from right after his mother had died. He hadn't needed them, had even forgotten about them until he stumbled across them when he was cleaning out the medicine cabinet. A strange urge had kept him from getting rid of them. He had stood staring down at them clutched loosely in his hand before shaking himself out of it.

Now they were back in his hand. His eyes trained hypnotically on them. Tam made a motion, almost like twisting off a top. Stiles hand did the same. Two pills fell out into his hand. Cold little capsules looked innocent against the colorless skin. 

The prescription was one a day right before bed. He remembered his doctor telling his father and him at least seven times before they had left his office. His thoughts raced back to the memory as he slowly lifted the pills to his mouth. In a thoughtless fluid motion, Stiles took both dry. 

Feeling them fall almost heavy into his stomach made him snap out of it for a few seconds. Then his vision started to go hazy. The black fuzzy dots growing until darkness surrounded him. Right before passing out, he heard Tam start to sing.


	7. Dad: Take 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter.

Sheriff Stilinski stood in front of the oven. It had been a long time since he had attempted to cook anything himself. After his wife had died Stiles and he had eaten takeout for a month before his son had started learning how to cook. He had seen a documentary on fast food and the effects on the body. The look of terror on his face had been jarring. 

Ever since then Stiles had cooked almost every meal. When John thought about it he felt a little guilty and sad. What kind of kid has to learn how to cook so young?

With a sigh he opened the oven and pulled out a veggie pizza. Not really home cooking, but it was the best he could do and he knew Stiles would approve of the amount of vegetables on it. He sat the pizza on the counter and got out two paper plate along with some napkins. Putting two slices of pizza on each, he carried the plates to the table and sat them down in each of their places. 

“Stiles, dinners ready!” He called behind him. After a few seconds he stilled and looked up. No sound. Silence filled the house as he listened out for the normal sounds of his kid moving about. 

“Stiles?” He called again and moved closer to the stairs. Still nothing. Concern clenched around his stomach, making his heart pound in his ears. He tried to listen even more carefully. The silence was deafening. 

“Stiles! I’m not joking, come down for dinner!” Silence. Without another thought, John ran up the stairs towards his sons room. Pausing outside the closed door he leaned towards it and listened. Still nothing. Without another hesitation he threw the door open and stepped inside. He felt his heart stutter as he took in the sight. 

“Stiles lay still across his bed, fully clothed. His skin was pale, almost translucent and blue in the dull light. There was not a single twitch or movement as John stared frozen where he stood. His sons chest wasn't moving at all. 

Rushing over, he fell to his knees and reached out with trembling hands. “Stiles? Son, wake up!” His sons face felt clammy as he gently touched it. He rest his head against Stiles chest, listening for breath or a heartbeat. A slow rising motion made him let out a sob of relief. 

Giving his son a firm shake he called out desperately again. “Stiles! Stiles wake up!” He moved slightly closer when he felt his knee hit something. It moved slightly under the bed. Pausing, he reached down and grasped it in a shaking hand. The shape he felt made his breath freeze in his chest. Denial clouded violently through his mind. Raising it up to see, he felt his world tilt. 

In his hand was a pill bottle. Three white pills sat almost innocently at the bottom. Another sob tore from his throat as he felt his world crash down around him. In a flurry of motion he pulled his phone out and struggled through typing out the number he needed. 

“Nine-one-one operator. What is your emergency?”

John gasped in panicked breaths as he tried to collect himself enough to answer. “T-this is Sheriff John Stilinski. I need an ambulance at my house.” His voice wavered at the end. After rattling off his address he hung up and reached out to his son. Taking him gently into his arm he felt his heart crack cleanly in half. 

Images of holding him in his arms in the hospital after he was born flashed through his mind. The crying little bundle of purple-red skin and a frustrated flush to his cheeks. Then another image, his son at the beach with his mother. Then another, his son trying out for lacrosse. Then his son in the hospital with his mother, his son at the funeral, his son cooking and cleaning, his son sitting in his police car with him, his son being nosy, his son going to high school, his son getting in trouble, his son starting to disappear. 

Now this. His son clutched to him, lifeless looking. 

The tears ran freely down his face, falling with little ‘plat’ sounds as they fell against his sons cheek. Without realizing it, John had started to rock Stiles like when he was a baby. 

“Please… Please.” He called weakly as he heard the ambulance draw near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm so terrible but this is where I'm stopping it for now. I'll try to get up another chapter tomorrow and if I have time I'll try for two.


	8. The Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would see if I would upload the next chapter but I had to stay up anyway so I decided to just write it then. I hope you like it.

Sirens rang out in the night like a warning echoing throughout the still darkness. John Stilinski held onto his son’s hand in a tight white knuckled grip. The paramedics moved fluidly around him, hooking up wires and turning on machines. An oxygen mask is placed quickly over his sons face. John watches silently, lost in his grief and worry. 

One of the paramedics sits slowly down next to him. Her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, black glasses surround wide empathetic blue eyes. “Sir, I know this is a really upsetting time, but I need to know a few things before we get to the hospital.” In her hands was a clipboard. A pen held loosely against the paper. 

John nodded. He could sympathize with her position. It was never easy being the person who had to interrupt a delicate situation for information. Shakily he turned sideways so he was mostly facing her. She smiled politely and cleared her throat. 

“Alright, how did you find the patient?” Her voice was kind and soft, almost like she was trying to soften a blow. “He was laying on his bed, unresponsive.” John cleared his throat when his voice thickened. 

“Did you see if he had taken anything?” She asked again gently. John nodded brokenly. “I found a pill bottle on the floor by his bed. A prescription for sleeping pills he had gotten after his mother passed away.” He looked over at his still son laying out on the gurney. “Ok, now I will need to know if he is allergic to any medication.” John shook his head no, still looking at his son. 

He couldn't help but wonder what had happened. What had changed so much that this is where they had ended up. In the back of an ambulance, fighting for life. It was horrifying, the feeling of impending doom he felt when he looked at his impossibly still son. It was like seeing his wife all over again. They looked so much alike. Same pale skin and dark hair, dark eyes and splatter of moles. 

“Has there been any changes in personality or behaviors recently? Maybe a change in sleeping patterns or eating habits?” John froze. His mind flashing back since this school year had started. “Yes… He has been acting differently for a while, not eating recently. I am never home at night because of my job so I don't know about his sleeping patterns.” She nodded understandingly and made a quick check mark. 

“Alright, one more question. Have you noticed your son acting depressed, taking up drugs or alcohol, maybe he has been distant lately?” John thought back. The realization that he had no way of knowing hit him like being struck by lightning. He couldn't remember in the past few months him ever really being home for more then a few hours, and even then Stiles usually was at school. He felt his heart pounding loudly in his ears. “I don't know…” His voice cut off, tears welling in his eyes. 

He hid his eyes behind his hands and leaned forward on his knees. Guilt and shame welling up, filling him with a sense of dread so profound he couldn't breathe. What had he done? Why had he let the situation become so bad? So bad that he hadn't seen his son in over a month. So bad that the one time he does see his son, he yells at him. Punishes him. 

He felt so ashamed. He had neglected his own son without even realizing it. Claudia would have been so ashamed of him. He let the tears fall as the ambulance pulled into the hospital. He continued to stay motionless even when they took Stiles away. 

△

Stiles slowly felt his consciousness swim into awareness. Beeping rang in his ears annoyingly and he frowned in irritation. He was tired, his throat ached and itched like he was in the middle of having the worst strep throat of his life. He could hear whispers in the background. Shuffling feet and shifting chairs made his head ache terribly. 

His eyes felt heavy and gritty, slowly he struggled to open them. Blinding light made him flinch back almost violently, the pounding in his head intensifying. Slowly opening them again, he looked around the bright white room. Plain walls and plastic chairs surrounded him. 

Next to the door stood his dad and Melissa. Her hands were holding onto his arms comfortingly. Her voice soft and whispering. His dad’s head was hanging down dejectedly and his eyes were shut. 

For a moment Stiles was very confused. He couldn’t remember anything happening where he would end up in the hospital. His last memory had been talking to Tam while he laid in bed. An image of a pill bottle flashed through his mind before it sunk back into the fog of memory. 

Slowly he started to move his arms. Flinching as pins and needles shot throughout his limb. Dizziness shot through him from that small movement. With a hiss he closed his eyes again. Sudden silence filled the room like a heavy blanket. 

“Stiles?” He heard his dad say in the most desperate voice he had ever heard from him. Slowly opening his eyes again, Stiles turned his head towards his dad’s voice. His face was drawn and pale. His lips chapped and wrinkles deeper then ever before. He looked almost aged. It was so shocking Stiles stared blankly for a few minutes. 

He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but ended up freezing as a coughing fit tore through his sore throat. Everything ached as he struggled to breathe and swallow successfully. A straw was held up to his mouth. Slowly he took little drinks until the burning temporarily subsided. 

“Dad?” He finally was able to ask. His head was spinning slightly, the lights made everything fuzzy. Melissa was standing over him, the cup held tightly in her hand. “What happened?” He croaked out with confusion written all over his face. 

John’s face falls even farther. His watery eyes sliding away briefly before sliding back to Stiles face. “I found you in your room, you were barely breathing. I thought I had lost you.” His dad’s hand reached out and took hold of his. His fingers were shaking before he curled them around Stile’s in a tight grip. 

The more his dad told him the more confused he was. He could barely remember taking anything. He had been upset and talking to Tam, then he woke up here. It was almost like a blank wall between then and now. “I don’t remember,” he says weakly and looks off into space. His dad and Malissa looked over at each other, their eyes filled with concern. “Alright honey, just rest for now.” Malissa rest her hand lightly over his knee before moving away. 

Stiles looked at his dad again. John was still holding his hand, his thumb running soothingly over his knuckles. “I really don’t know what happened dad,” Stiles said, his voice cracking as he started to feel the familiar rush of panic shoot through his stomach and chest. John’s head jerked up when he heard the heart monitor speed up. 

“Shh, Stiles its ok. I promise, just rest. We’ll think this all through and worry about it once you’ve had a full nights sleep. I’ll stay right here, I promise Stiles.” Johns eyes welled up with tears, his face solid like stone with conviction. “I promise you Stiles, I wont ever leave you again.”

△

Across the room sat a metal tissue dispenser, the light casting foggy reflections across the smooth surface. Unheard to anyone else was mumbling. Rumbling nonsense of frustration echoing around in the near silence. A face swam forward, anger radiating from every stern feature. Tam looked out at the sweet image and felt a mix of overwhelming emotions. Anger, frustration, longing. They all swirled around inside her head until she wanted to scream. She had been so close. So close to finally not being alone ever again. 

Next time, she would succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry I haven't updated. Life and laziness has just gotten in the way of writing the next chapter. I'm working on it now so don't worry, it should be updated tonight or tomorrow at the latest. Thanks for understanding! <3


	9. Family

Stiles was almost completely lost in his thoughts when a male nurse with a trolly nocked softly on the door. “Hey, Mr. Stiles Stilinski? I’ve got some lunch for you.” He looked up when Stiles nodded and checked something off on his clipboard. “Lucky for you it seems you’re off the liquid diet now.” He smiled brightly, almost like that was a good thing. Stiles felt his stomach drop. 

With the liquid diet at the hospital all you had to eat was three different flavors of broth to pick from and colorless popsicles. The broths tended to be too salty and as thin as water, the popsicles usually left that artificially sweet aftertaste that wouldn’t go away until you downed three glasses of water. They had been easy to eat though. Didn’t require chewing and if you didn’t finish more then a few spoonfuls the nurses didn’t bat an eye. They all knew how disgusting the food was. 

Stiles heart started to beat faster as the nurse brought a covered tray towards his bed. He sat it down on the wooden table that was at the foot of the bed and then pulled a few levers near the bottom. The table raised up enough that he could push it over the top of the bed and closer until it was right in front of Stiles. Stiles felt his hands start to tremble where he had them hidden under the blankets. His eyes trained away from the table in front of him. The nurse left quickly after that with a small wave. Stiles felt his eyes start to water and his cheeks flush. 

With irritation he pressed his unsteady fists into his eyes. It was so stupid of him to feel like crying in this moment. Over something as small as a solid lunch. The more he tried to push away the uncomfortable pressure of tears, the more he wanted to cry. He wanted to just give up and let the tears fall, let them pool on the hard surface in front of him until the water grew large enough to wash everything away. He knew that couldn’t be though. He knew that it would be so childish of him to cry. Memories started to swim unwanted to the surface of his mind. 

It was right after his mom had passed away. The funeral had been the day before. His dad had been sitting on the couch, a glass of amber liquid clutched tightly in his right hand. He had come down the stairs slowly, his heart fluttering in his chest as he drew closer. He remembered tears rushing down his cheeks, so thick and salty he had to struggle through every breath. Silent hiccups jarred his framed. He had walked over to his dad, fear swimming in his large brown eyes. Memories of the moment his mom had died flooded his mind and made it impossible to sleep. She wasn’t there to hold him till he went to sleep, she wasn’t there to help keep the nightmares away.

He remembered calling out to his dad, his voice watery and weak. His dad looking over at him, his eyes glassy and tired. He remembered his dad looking heartbroken, lost. His dad had sat him on the couch that night, his breath smelt strongly of alcohol as he told him he needed to be strong. His dad hadn’t cried when his mom died, he hadn’t cried when they buried her. That night Stiles had fallen asleep on the couch, a blanket thrown over his shoulders and his dad sitting in his chair next to him. That was the last night he cried over his mom. 

The memory faded away. Stiles sucked in a deep breath and thought over the past year. He had kept himself from crying throughout the werewolf problems, he had kept himself from crying when he lost people he loved, but the moment Scott had stopped talking to him he let the tears fall like a wimp. How weak of him. How heartless. Selfish. He couldn’t let himself cry now. He didn’t deserve it. 

Stiles was suddenly jarred from his thoughts by a nock on the door. Melissa stood in the open doorway, her eyes sad but still smiling. “I see you got your lunch, have you eaten it yet?” Stiles felt his cheeks heat up, he looked down at the covered tray again. “No,” he said quietly with a little shake of his head. The silence grew thick before Melissa let out a sigh and walked over to the bed. She smoothed out the covers before taking a seat next to him. 

Reaching out she opened the lid to reveal plain chicken with a side salad. Thick onion rings and pale tomatoes glared back at him. They looked almost plastic in the artificial light. A shudder racked his frame suddenly. Melissa frowned in concern. “Are you cold?” Stiles shook his head, his whole body was tense with nerves and suppressed emotions. He didn’t want to worry Melissa anymore then he already had. Taking in a deep breath he picked up the fork and set his shoulders firmly. 

The fork moved slowly towards the salad. It was just lettuce and a few other vegetables. Thats not that bad. It doesn’t even have dressing on it. Stiles spears a tomato on the end of his fork and brings it towards his mouth with a trembling hand. He’s just preparing to open up for the bite when a voice breaks through his concentration. ‘You don’t know how many calories are in it.’ The world seems to freeze as Stiles processes this. He doesn’t know how many calories is in this salad. He doesn’t know how many calories is in the chicken. He doesn’t know how it was cooked, he doesn’t know if they added anything else into anything or whether they have been pumping him full of calories this whole time. His eyes flash down to the tube running from the crease of his arm up to the bag hanging almost mockingly next to his bed. 

The lack of control he felt in that moment took his breath away. Fear choked him like a fist clenched tightly around his neck. He tried to shake off the feeling so he could get the bite down, but his mouth refused to open. His lips seemed almost sewn shut by invisible string. An irrational fear of his skin ripping if he dared to force his mouth open flashed through his mind. He could almost picture the bloody mess of ripped skin vividly. With a half frustrated, half despaired sigh Stiles threw the fork across the room and turned his face away from the offending offerings in front of him. 

Stiles clenched his eyes shut as pain racked through him. He just wanted everything to stop and stay still. A loud buzzing bounced around the room as he tried to stay calm. He felt helpless, weak. 

He jumped, startled as a soft hand gently rest itself against his arm. Slowly he looked over into the sad eyes of Melissa McCall. Melissa had always been there after Stiles mom passed away. She had let him stay the night when his dad got too drunk to even stand let alone take care of him. She would always have the same look of compassion and kindness that she had now. 

“When did this start Stiles?” Her voice quivered slightly at the end of the sentence, her eyes misty with poorly concealed sadness. “Why didn’t we notice?” Her voice cut off at the end of her sentence. Suddenly her arms were wrapped around him, strong and warm but still soft. With a sigh that ended of a suppressed sob Stiles rest his head against her shoulder and shut his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Her hand started to move gently against his back, rubbing in soothing circles like she had done so long ago. The knots in his muscles and stomach seemed to relax slightly in her embrace. Warmth swimming around him, dragging him down to the comfortable place of safety she had always been to him. 

“It happened so fast. I thought I was stronger as long as I had control, but I feel like I’m falling apart at the seams.” He hoarsely said. Melissa shushed him gently as he felt his eyes burn with the need to cry. Closing them he hid his face in her shirt and let her comfort wash over him. “It’s okay Stiles, it’s ok. Everything is going to be just fine.”

In that moment, Stiles really believed her. 

△

Stiles woke an hour later to the sound of soft whispering. The room’s light was dim and cast still shadows across every surface. Stiles turned his head in the direction of the voices and saw his dad and Melissa whispering heatedly to each other. Melissa looked mad, her eyebrows drawn low and her mouth pinched tight. Her arms were crossed in front of her in the universal angry mom position. Sheriff Stilinski kept his head lowered as he listened to her heated words. His eyes downcast and his face drawn. He looked so upset. Stiles felt his stomach drop at the sight. 

He felt so guilty? How had he fallen so low. How had he gotten here? He couldn’t remember what happened, everything seemed a blur. He was just about to sink into a pit of self hatred and guilt when Melissa said his name. 

“Stiles, sweetheart how are you feeling.” All the tenseness that had started to accumulate in his body slowly melted away. He looked up slowly into her caring face. “I’m fine.” He said softly. Melissa smiled sadly at him and nodded. “Sorry if we woke you up, we should have talked outside so you could rest. Do you need me to get you anything?” Stiles shook his head no and slowly turned to look at his dad. 

His face was set in a fake look of blankness. No emotion, no feelings. His hands trembled slightly were they clutched the back of the hospital chair. “Hey son, I’m glad to see you awake.” Stiles smiled awkwardly. A tense silence filled the room and left everyone looking around without knowing what to do. Finally Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat pointedly and looked at Melissa. She looked back evenly before nodding. “I’m just going to step out for a moment Stiles, try not to cause any mayhem while I’m gone.” A small smirk graced her features as she turned to leave. Stiles felt his own face relax into a smile at her words. 

Once she was gone it was silent again. Stiles stared down at the plain blanket laid across his lap. He felt his face heat up as he wandered what his dad wanted. A heavy sigh startled him out of his thoughts. 

“Listen, son. I’m so sorry if I haven’t lived up to being the father you need.” His voice was quiet. More quiet then Stiles had heard since the day he found his dad sitting in the hospital hallway outside his moms room. “I was supposed to protect you, be there for you. Instead I was taking my frustration out on you. I wasn’t being the adult you needed. When I didn’t know what to do to help you, I just ignored the situation instead and that was terrible of me.” He looked away, his eyes clenching shut against the pain in his own voice. Stiles watched, eyes wide and transfixed on his dads face. 

“I should have talked to you, spent time with you. Maybe we could have fixed everything before it got to this point. I’m so sorry son.” His voiced finally gave out. Thick salty tears running down his pale cheeks. Stiles watched in shock and guilt. He had caused this. His dad had cried for the first time in years because of him. He felt his own eyes well with tears much to his horror. 

“I don’t know what happened Dad. One moment I was fine, the next everything was falling apart.” His voice trembled as he whispered each word. He felt his heart cracking in two for the third time in his life. He didn’t know if he had much more heart to break. Strong arms wrapped around him in the second best hug he had in a long time. His face was pressed against the smooth material of his Dad’s sheriff uniform. The smell of gun oil and ink surrounded him and made him feel safe for the first time in years. In that moment, everything was fine again. 

His dad held him for a long time, whispering reassuring words and promising change when he got out of there. The only interruption they had was when the doctor came in to tell them he would be able to leave the next day as long as he attended therapy for the next three weeks. 

“It’ll just be an evaluation period. Twice a week for the next three weeks. It will be mandatory. Your dad’s already agreed that if you get to go home you will have to follow these rules. At the end of the three weeks your therapist will tell you where you need to go from there.” His voice was final, no room for arguments. Stiles felt tired and warn. He didn’t give much of a fuss. 

The next day he found himself laying still staring up at his bedroom sealing. His mind filled with thoughts that left him confused and feeling strange. The most prevalent thought was, where was Tam? 

Unbeknownst to him, the small handheld mirror sat hidden under a pillow on his bed. The mirrors occupant waiting impatiently among the shadows.


End file.
